Moonsnow
by greenleaf-in-bloom
Summary: Remus contemplates on his world. Christmas Eve? 1981. Fairly short.


Moonsnow - a short Remus ficlet   
Remus Lupin's thoughts, Christmas Eve 1981.   
  
The soft crystals of snow fluttered down from the sky.   
  
Remus didn't feel the cold anymore; it had become a part of him since…since…   
  
The flakes collected in his hair, and on his upturned face. His eyes were bright, and the damp spots on his cheeks were not simply from melting snow.   
  
It was the first time he would have to be alone for Christmas.   
  
He shook his now long, untidy hair out of his eyes, disturbing the snow that had begun to cling, forming an eerie, pale crown. Damp stiffening strands still lay across his face, so he lifted a bare hand and brushed them aside. The clouds blocked his view of the almost-full moon, and of the stars that had been with him through the long silence of the nights.   
  
Soon the angry wolf would join him again to howl his misery at how hopeless and terrible his life had become.   
  
Without realizing what he was doing, he shivered. More snow was scattered onto the ground, and was soon buried as fresh flakes covered the old.   
  
The clouds shifted, and a halo appeared with the moon. He turned his head to look up at it, to gaze at it. Gentle fragments floated between Remus and the moon, and he blinked. A snowflake had fallen onto his dark lashes. It melted, and joined the tears that flowed down his face.   
  
He knew, and did not care, that his face had aged considerably since Halloween. With good enough reason. Sirius, how could you do this to me…to them? How could you betray us all?   
  
He closed his eyes slowly, spilling more tears onto his cheeks. A half-sob shook his body, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out loud.   
  
He opened his eyes again and stared out at the falling snow across the town. His house, though small, had one of the best views in the area. The soft lights, now mingled with glowing red and green, shone up to him from where he sat, before his house, atop a lonely hill on the edge of the town. Behind the house was a huge expanse of hilly grassland, empty and sad, for when the wild moon called to him, as it would soon. And for the second time in ten years, he would spend the night of the calling alone.   
  
Why?   
  
He forced his thoughts to James and Lily and Peter. For what purpose had they died? What had gone so terribly wrong with his life so suddenly? He'd lost his only friends. He felt hollow inside.   
  
And Sirius - Sirius had gotten what he deserved. He was cold too now. He was alone. And he deserved that. And me? I deserve it too. I'm not human. I didn't deserve their friendship, their trust, their love, their faith…I never did. I'm a monster. I wish…no. He would never wish again. What was there to wish for? What wish was there that could possibly come true?   
  
You, Sirius - you were never the Dark kind. I don't understand it. What did you want? Power? Knowledge? What did you want that you couldn't find at James' side? He was brave and good. He didn't deserve the early grave you handed him. What did you get from his death? The defeat of your master, and a life in Azkaban. Oh, Sirius, how could you?   
  
And Lily –   
  
Remus had to draw in a sharp breath as he remembered Lily's beauty, her eyes shining in joy and amazement, or even full of tears and sadness. She was still beautiful…But that was only in life. He had seen her body. In death she was cold and sharp. Her beauty was harsher, more mocking. She was always the clever one - but she deserved Gryffindor. Harry - she had saved Harry - she had died - for Harry.   
  
And Harry didn't deserve what he got either.   
  
For a moment, he turned his thoughts to the small, wide-eyed boy. He hadn't even gotten a chance to see Harry after the attack. The boy had been taken to his aunt and uncle's, the Muggles. If there was one boy in the world who didn't deserve them –   
  
He had, of course, heard Lily's complaints of her sister and her sister's awful husband. The thought of Harry living with them was unbearable - he had only seen them once, when he and Sirius and James had gone to her parents' funeral. Petunia had looked sad, but not terribly so, and had not spoken a word to Lily the entire time, nor, for that matter, anyone except her huge then-fiancee Vernon Dursley. The both of them had just shot looks at the Marauders minus Peter.   
  
Remus wondered about Harry sometimes. How was he being treated? He knew from Lily that both the Muggles hated anything to do with magic, and probably detested Harry, little Harry –   
  
The poor child didn't deserve that. He had already lost his parents. He deserved a good life, and a good family, a wizarding family that could treat him properly and know how to deal with any signs of magic he ever showed.   
  
Then Remus thought of Peter, and the tears flowed more freely down both cheeks. The snow gathered in his hair, and the clouds shifted and covered the moon again. His vision blurred as he remembered the funeral, with Peter's finger in the box, with the Order of Merlin, with –   
  
NO!   
  
That wasn't what he wanted to think of when Peter's name came to mind. He wanted to think of the expression of pure joy when Peter first transformed, how when he changed back he had been trembling with exitement, how there had been a light in his eyes that had never been there before. He wanted to remember the boy who had timidly knocked on the compartment door of the Hogwarts Express and asked if he could join them. He wanted to recall clearly the huge grin that had lit up Peter's face when they had won the House Cup third year thanks to his points.   
  
Remus became aware of himself again and realized that he was sobbing, uncontrollably crying, and tried to hold it in. He wrapped his arms around himself and felt the numbness in his fingers. Eventually he managed to stop crying.   
  
Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs…   
  
What had become of them all? Everything seemed to have fallen to pieces. They had lost everything on Halloween…even Sirius had.   
  
No, that wasn't true. Himself and Peter had lost everything on the first of November.   
  
Peter and James had lost their lives. Sirius had lost his heart. And Remus…Remus had lost his soul.   
  
A brief smile flickered across his face as memories, old but not faded, not rusted, flitted like small birds through him. Some were warming and full of laughter and love, some tainted with half-bitterness, and others were…somehow…separate, different.   
  
Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. And Lily and Harry, of course.   
  
As if from far away, he thought he heard a whisper on the soft breeze. He stood up and was still for a moment. Then from the small town church he heard something that made his heart want to gasp. "Angels we have heard on high…" The sound of the chorus, beautiful and quiet, soft and clear, came floating up the hill.   
  
Not bothering to shake the snow out of his hair or off his clothes, Remus Lupin walked slowly down the hill to join in the singing. 


End file.
